Altar

Over and over
I drag it up
and lay it down
only to pick it up again,
and here I am,
ashamed,
hooked in,
co-dependant.

Laying my Isaac down
sounds so noble,
honourable,
but with coals glowing hot
on the altar,
my greedy fingers reach out
to snatch back
the sacrifice.

I convince myself of
another way,
with another lamb,
'cause this one is virtually unblemished
and strangely precious.
Somehow larger than life.

And although I know a
higher
holier way
waits on the other side of the flames,
I choose to
trade redemption
for burn’t fingers
and slightly charred
remains.

Lesley-Anne Evans
Jan. 2009
copyright

Things I saw while not looking…

A lone robin -- Spring’s ambassador --
hopping tentatively over the tired snow.

Redwing blackbirds calling out raucous warbles
from hidden perches in the frozen marsh.

Three tundra swans banking wide white circles
in the valley below us, on our way home from school.

The sun painting my kitchen a watery yellow
through fingerprinted winter windows.

Lesley-Anne Evans
02/03/2009